


Gathering the fallen petals

by Awenseth



Series: Dweller of Dreams, to heal the sorrow... [3]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Angst and Tragedy, F/M, Gen, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Soul Melody, Spiritual, mention of past rape, slightly psychological
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-09
Updated: 2014-01-10
Packaged: 2018-01-08 02:53:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1127504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awenseth/pseuds/Awenseth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the tragedy which struck his daugter fears Celeborn that his family will fade from grief. In his desperation calls the lord upon the only healer who can mend the broken souls...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Healer

**Author's Note:**

> As pointed out before _Silme Bereth_ is kind of a pre-lude or something like that for this fic which on the other hand serves as a pre-story for _100 days_ and some others that will follow when I get to write them.

Swirling, merciless darkness, the icy touch of despair and pain, pain for the unright done against the beloved daughter. Even the burning flames of rage were suffocated by the darkness of the cold sorrow which rips the soul from all its strength, robbing the body of all energy to live, till only a cold shell remains, unfeeling, unmoving... 

Nay!

He couldn’t let the pain triumph, the darkness to rip his heart to pieces, to rob his body from all warmth!

Words long forgotten filtered into the tormented mind like the first sunrays of spring falling on the cold earth on the first spring day:

_“Don’t ever let the darkness of despair bind your heart with its thorns, the flame of hope should always be your guide. Never despair my grandson, then pain will only cause more pain, so always keep your loved ones close to you.”_

He could feel it, the darkness getting lighter around him, making blue eyes be able to see his surroundings. With the dear words warming his heart new warmth flooded through his body, waking the flame of determination to not give up on hope. His Sindar forefathers would be ashamed if he would now fail, even if he wished that he wouldn’t be so weak and powerless. If he would have inherited the gift which his daeradar possessed..., but none of his blood did, still he knew of that gift. A gift about which the world seemed to have forgotten after the Kinslayers sheed the dear blood of those few possessing Eru’s comparison through the tears whom which they were born from. Stepping forth with determined steps gazed the Lord of Lothlórien right into the heart of darkness, taking all his courage together and called out the name his daeradar had told him as he visited him in his dream three nights ago. 

“Nestaron!” he called out while holding back a soft smile at the irony of the name’s meaning and for the person he was seeking. 

Soon the silence was broken by the sound of approaching of soft footsteps – their owner wanting his arrival to be noticed, but still not noticed like it was their nature to be two opposites at the same time-, but due to the echo was it not easy to know from where they come form. Time seemed to slow down when suddenly from the swirling blackness a new person appeared, the darkness parting in front of him obediently, - like how the clouds part in front of the moon on those stormy nights when the stars are pale -, so young and breathtakingly beautiful. The lines fair even for an elf, waist long ebony hair, the colour of the night sky where no light shines, left free from any braid except two on each side of his fair face, bound together at the back of his head. Eyes the same colour as Ithil’s silver light, shining with ancient wisdom no matter how young their owner was, - for they had already seen the darkest faces of the world -, unblemished skin nearly reminding on marble. He was clad in black leggings and a long slaved tunic which only let his long fingers be seen, silver patterns glistered without light on the tunic. There was something familiar to him, but in his haste and hopes to overcome the tragedy weighting on them all was his mind not giving any answers to his questions for the picture of the one so often present at his daeradar’s side, her soft smile, gentle touch, melodious voice healing the dark hurt, all these were burned into his soul to not be asked for he already knew.

“To whom have I the pleasure calling me.” his melodious voice carried no trace of surprise for someone knowing his name, even thought only few even knew his existence. Poor Glorfindel would probably give anything to know that the little elleth he had treated as a sister had given life to a son to whom he was named godfather to. 

“Lord Celeborn of Lothlórien, I request your help.” his voice was surprisingly steady even thought his heart was hammering in his chest, he had not hoped that the one he seeks would posses such a beauty. Even over shining his White Lady and that of Elrond’s Evenstar, but should he feel surprised standing in front of the one whose mother recieved the endearment Moonlight Queen by the former King of the Woodland Realm? 

“To what may you seek my guidance? I can feel the despair of your mind, but also see the darkness lessening around you. ” they were now only a few steps away from the other and something told Celeborn that he was also no stranger to the other. 

“Aye, I seek the help for my family, my wife is hiding herself in her visions, fleeing form the reality since our child fell victim to the vicious attack of orcs “ he still couldn’t say the word, but they weren’t needed as the other nodded to him that he understood “her husband is hiding since that day by her side, not eating or sleeping only sitting there holding her cold hands, his people worry for their ruler, my two grandsons are trapped between the flames of their own hatred and rage, staying away for months hunting after orcs and Arwen, our little Evenstar is always sent by her father to us.” 

“They are all trying to push those they love away.” were the only words the Dream Dweller spoke as he looked deep into Celeborn’s eyes. “As you wish, I will accept them as my patients and try to mend their souls, but hopefully you understand híren, that if I succeed it may be that they will wish to sail to Valinor where they can fully heal.” his voice was even as was his silver moonlight gaze. 

“I’m aware of the possibility.” Celeborn finally said noticing the little smile on pale rose coloured lips. 

“Then is it well, first your daughter, I want to ask you to let me have clear field to her when we met at the end of the fourth day. My journey from home will take that long. Belain na le híren.” and with that did he already turn around in a flourish of ebony robes and hair. 

“Ná Elbereth veria le.” and with that the darkness shattered giving place to a peaceful forest, his soul was slowly healing from the knowledge that his loved ones would not fade away.


	2. The Broken Flower

Celeborn had held to his word, even if it pained him to leave is wife alone, now was Celebrían more important. It was not easy to get Elrond out of the room, the healers burned herbs which had the effect to get you knocked out and let the smoke drift into the sick room for it to work. When Elrond was out ordered Celeborn the healers to take him to his room and to not bother him, he would be watching over his daughter now. After everyone left looked the lord sadly at his child, her once porcelain skin was a sickly pastry colour, ugly bruises still bloomed like deep violet flowers on her body, claw and teeth marks, all standing as horrifying testimony for what had happened in those three days. Once full lips dry and blistered, shining pale blond hair which once resembled his was a matted, lifeless colour, like dried weed. 

“If the soul is shattered can the body not heal.” come the melodious, soft voice from behind him. Turning around was he greeted by a cloaked figure, pulling the hood back he relaxed further. “ Her soul bears many scars, she is hiding from everything, so first I will have to find her.” Nestaron said as he walked up to the fading figure on the bed, one hand gently brushing the sweat away from her face. “Fear not, I will try to lessen your pain so that you can heal.” 

With this he placed both his hands on her forehead and closed his moonlight eyes as a soft blue light surrounded him.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

There was a soft breeze and the dark haired elf found himself in a large hall filled with doors in the colours of blue, black, gray and red. He walked past each of the gray doors, looking at the names on them written in gold till his eyes fell on the right one. Pushing it open he entered the swirling darkness and cold, with each step tick mist raised around him till he found himself in the garden of the Last Homely House with the sound of cheerfull laughter filling his ears. Following the laughter and playful banter he soon found the family of seven, the adult women sitting in the shade of a blooming cherry tree while the men were playing with the three young children. A sad smile crossed his lips at this, most of the deeply scared souls mix their happiest memories together to create a world of illusion for themselves to feel safe, but in the end is this nothing more then an illusion which slowly drags their creator into death.

“Híril-nín, I know that you are hurting and scared, but your fading will hurt those you hold dear to your heart much more then you can imagine.” he said softly as the lovely illusion shattered at the wave of his hand. 

“Who are you?” the lady demanded in anger as she stood up from her seat beside the spot where the illusionary figure of her mother had been. 

“Someone whom your adar called to help híril-nín, I’m Nestaron a Dream Dweller.” he introduced himself while bowing to the female elf who looked at him confused. 

“Ada?” she asked uncertainly while also trying to remember why the term the stranger had used for himself sounded familiar. 

“He is the one currently on your side, your husband needed desperate rest so he made the healers knock him out in a sense.” he said and she let out a little laugh at the image. “I never told Elrond that there is a chance that the twins got their mischievous side from ada.” she said sadly as she looked into the eyes of the other, noting how much they reminded her on the light of the moon, there was something calming to them. “Please forgive me for asking, but what is a Dream Dweller? I know that the term should be familiar to me, but my mind does not wish to help me with the answer” she was still standing on the same spot while the Dweller smiled. 

“We were once those the Sindar called the bearers of Illuvatar’s Comparison. Not many of the oldest remember for it had been hidden in their memories as a new start needed to be set, but back in the time after Eru gave life to the firs born there was a great disease which had the power to kill elves and those who lived were stricken by a great pain, then never had they felt the icy claws of loss of loved ones before and thus Illuvatar cried for them. From those tears which reached the dead soul of Valinor appeared elves with the power to step into the mind of others and help them overcome their pain. You could say, a Dream Dweller is a healer for the soul and mind.” Nestaron explained kindly, his eyes never leaving his patient’s face. 

“Then you can help me overcome this?” she asked while gesturing to the tick blackness surrounding them, she did not ask about the new beginning of things for the words had triggered memories spent with her ada and those memories would give her the answers. 

“Aye, if it is your wish. I can’t heal you fully for that is not in my power, but it will lessen the pain and after that you can decide if staying here or sailing to Valinor will help you to become the person you once were.” Nestaron explained, if one had suffered rape it can not be fully healed by him because the victim needs to heal the hurt themselves, he can only help them start the path. 

“The one I once was?” her tone was tired and strained from the tears she tried to hold back, it was hard to remember how she had been. 

“The past can’t be changed, but it can be overcome if one truly wishes for it.” he said while holding his hand out to her, watching as she made her way slowly over to him, like a babe doing her first unsure steps, reaching him she took his hand. 

“What do we need to do?” her voice sounded more determined now. 

“So you wish to awaken from your beautiful dream?” he asked while letting the illusion appear again, her family calling her to join them in playing. Celebrían looked back at them with a sad smile on her lips, her eyes shining because of tears. 

“Aye, it was wonderful, but if I stay then I would only show how week of a lady I was and I will not shame the name of my family.” she replied with determination. 

“A wise choice híril-nín, but know that what must now be done will be painful for you need to face your terror of the memories of those three days.“ he could feel her hand trembling in his so he placed the other over it in a calming way. “This is the only way, but if it is too much tell me and I will stop the memory, even facing the moment of your abduction would be enough. Facing the memory that ills your soul, even if for a short while can start the healing.” he explained and she nodded in understanding. 

“Then let us start…” Nestaron nodded and the illusion broke again to be replaced by a land covered in glistering, fresh snow, _a group of twenty elves were making their way riding through the land._

_“Lady Celebrían, if we hold this tempo will we reach Imladris by tomorrow evening.” one of the soldiers said smiling to the woman riding in the middle._

_“That is wonderful to hear, I can hardly wait to embrace my lovely children.”_ Celebrían heard herself say with true happiness in her voice, watched how she had placed a stray piece of pale blonde hair behind her ear and how the elves around her looked away flinching slightly. 

_“Lady Arwen is surely lovely even now as such a young elleth, but her brothers the gwanűn are living nightmares.” the soldier stated at which their Lady only laughed._

_“My sons can surely be a handful, I need to get a present for poor Erestor and Glorfindel who needed to babysit them the most as their tutors.” she said while looking up at the pale blue sky._

_Suddenly the peaceful atmosphere was shattered as the horses stared bucking nervously and the two soldiers on the front halted, drawing their swords._

_“What is wrong?” another soldier asked, hand on the hild of his weapon._

_“A large group of orcs are approaching! Protect Lady Celebrían!” one of them yelled and sure enough they could already see them, the grotesque creatures which had once been their kin, but Morgoth had captured them and made them into his loyal soldiers, robbing them their mind and will._

Celebrian watched with tears in her eyes how all those trying to protect her were brutally slain, their crimson blood tainting the pure white of the snow, the screams sent chills down her spine she wished so much that over the hills help would have appeared, but she knew that no one had come, only later a sole messenger because she had forgotten the present her mother had given her on the day of her arrival in the Golden Woods. She watched herself grabbing the sword of one of the fallen soldiers, how she had urged her mare to try running past the enemy while they were busy, her desperate attempt to reach the forest where she could make the trees protect her with magic, but she was not fast enough. One of the orcs had thrown his weapon after them, hitting the mare’s hinderlegs, shattering the poor creature’s bones and made them fall to the ground, because of the dizziness was she not fast enough and they had captured her, dragged her away screaming. 

The scene shifted now she clearly knew that she had fainted from all her struggling and screaming. They were now in a damp cave only lit by a few torches, even in the memory the stench of that place made her stomach want to throw up. She knew what would come now, her hands gripped Nestaron’s arm painfully, but he didn’t even flinch, only placed his free hand gently on her right where her wedding band was. 

“You know that this was enough, we can stop now.” true, he said that even her abduction would be enough for her soul to start healing, but now that she was here she wished to face it all. She had always told her three little elflings when they were scared of ghosts or storms, that you are not a coward because you are afraid, everyone fears something, but only the ones truly brave face their fears. 

Now was it the time for her to be brave. 

“I wish to stay from the start till the end.” she said in a determined tone as she watched her memory selves eyes widen in fear as she was thrown on the cold stone table, her dress ripped, hands gripping her throat to keep her from screaming and cease her struggling. “Will you stay by me, not as a healer, but a friend?” she asked while looking into his eyes which showed a little confusion for a few seconds. 

“Aye, I will stay by you till you wish to leave.” she nodded, holding back a flinch as her own scream of pain hit her ears. 

_The screams got louder as they mixed with gurgling sounds because of the foul creature’s hand still wrapped around the slender neck, but the pain of the large organ into her body, tearing everything in its way still made her body writhe. She could feel the blood trying to work as a lubricant, but it was of no use. Shame burned through her body mixed with despair then she knew that there was no one who would help her, she had nowhere to escape._

_It hadn’t taken long to lose her touch to time, she was rapidly loosing weight because she refused to eat the garbage thrown to her, she was frequently beaten green and blue before being raped violently there where she was, often while another orc was beating her with his fists. Scars, wounds, dirt and the disgusting essence from her captors were covering her broken body, eyes dull and empty as they had their fun. She wasn’t even trying to fight it, to scream, trying to escape, she was like a broken puppet, blocking it all out._

“I had lost my sense of time after half a day?” Celebrian asked as she looked sadly at herself laying so lifelessly on the table, blood and white essence slowly falling to the dirty ground from her abused womanhood. “I can’t even remember these ones.” her voice was shaky and her hands had already left their marks on the other’s arm. 

“It is a cooping mechanism of the mind, by frequent abuse the mind tries to protect itself with shutting itself down from it.” Nestaron explained. 

“I’m not the first one you heal like this.” Celebrían noted and he nodded. 

“I have already had many rape victims, orcs, men and other creatures, but from all of them you are the bravest for managing to face your memories from the beginning till the last second, it is now over.” he said with a little smile. 

“What do you mean it is now over?” she asked in confusion when suddenly a familiar voice made her whirl around in surprise. 

_There in the room where she lay stood her twin sons covered in grime and blood, their eyes filled with horror and worry at the sight of their beloved mother._ She watched as Elladan healed some of her fresher wounds while Elrohir slayed the last of her captors, how her gentle oldest wrapped his cloak around her thin frame and slowly placed her in the arms of his twin, both muttering soft encouraging words to her about how now everything will be alright, she is safe, how they are now going home to their father and sister, while carrying her out of the darkness into the light. The last scene brought anew tears to her eyes, but this time she didn’t try to stop them, she had not know that it were her sons whom had saved her and carried her back home. It hurt that they needed to see her like that, but at the same time was her heart filled with pride about how much they had grown up from those two little troublemakers into strong soldiers. 

A pale hand held a hancrief out for her to wipe her eyes. 

“It is now truly over?” she asked while handing back the item. 

“Take a look around your soul.” was his only reply, she did and noted that the darkness was slowly dimming and in a few spots fell her eyes of blooming flowers whose soft petals were patiently waiting for the sun of joy to shine on them. A little smile graced her lips and golden light fell on a pink coloured rose which eagerly opened her petals to the light. 

“I wish to wake up, poor ada must be worried by now.” Celebrian said at which her companion chuckled. 

“This is your soul, you only need to wish for the door to appear for you.” Nestaron explained and sure enough a door appeared and Celebrían was making her way to it, but then she suddenly turned around to face him once more. 

“You know, I would have never guessed that I once get a healer whose beauty can give a run to my mother and my lovely little Evenstar.” she said with a laugh as she walked through the door into the world of the living. 

“Why seems to be this sentence about my looks to have become the trendmark comment from my patients?” he asked in annoyance before leaving the waking elleth’s mind.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

Celeborn watched worriedly as Nestaron’s eyes opened and he took his hands away before turning to the bag he had placed by his arrival on a nearby table. He already wanted to ask how it went when he suddenly felt the warmth returning to the lifeless hand he held which now squeezed his gently. Turning immediately to the bed was he greeted by the tired looking eyes of his child, yes her eyes were tired, but he saw the gleaming happiness in them, the life which was slowly returning to her broken body.

“Ce…Celebrían…iel-nín?” he asked unsurely, wishing with all his heart that this wasn’t a dream. 

“Of course is it me, silly ada.” she said smiling even thought her voice was rough, but she didn’t care, neither did her father who brought his daughter immediately into a warm embrace which she returned as best as she could. 

“You should drink this, it will help your throat.” Nestaron said suddenly as he walked up to them with a glass filled with some type of medicine. Celebrían grimaced slightly, she never liked medicine, but drunk it, her eyes widening in surprise. 

“This is sweet.” she said in a stunned tone, noting how her throat hurt a bit less and her voice sounded more normal. 

“Yes seeing how most part of it is made up by molten honey, it disinfects the throat and smoothes it.” he explained while placing two bottles on the nightstand. “You will need to drink this three times a day till the last bottle is also empty.” he advised and Celebrian laughed. 

“I doubt that I will put up to much of a fight regards this, it is already hard to resist drinking more from it.” Celeborn watched his child happily, she was healing, but he somehow knew that soon she would sail. 

“I’m glad, now I need to go I wish you well híren-nín, hírnin.” he said bowing and placed his hood back on after taking up his bag, but a pale hand suddenly grabbed his. 

“Hannon chen, mellon vain. I will never forget what you have done for me, but still I have a request my family…” but Celebrian’s words were halted. 

“Don’t worry, your father also requested their healing if it shouldn’t happen after your return from the false heaven your mind created.” Nestaron said as he walked to the window. “If I should still be needed call my name in your dreams and I will come.” and with that was he gone just in time when from outside the door the shouting come. 

_“I DON’T CARE WHO GAVE YOU THE INSTRUCTION! SHE IS MY WIFE AND MY PATIENT SHE NEEDS ME YOU FOOLS!”_ they heard Elrond scream with the other healers and Celebrían looked annoyed at the door before yelling as best as her voice would allow. 

“Elrond! My ada has every right to see me and don’t you dare call your subordinates fools because they care for you!” at this flew the door open revealing a shocked Elrond and five other healers staring wide eyed at the annoyed looking elf maiden who glared at them, Celeborn could only do as much asto hide his grin at how amusing his son-in-law looked. 

“Ce…Celebrían…” Elrond stuttered wide eyed.

“Really, first ada and now you to melethen, has everyone here forgotten my name or something?” she asked with faked hurt, it did good to be back, but she had made up her mind, she would go to Valinor after her body was fully healed and she had spent a little time with her family. She hoped they would understand, at least she knew that they had a friend who would help her loved ones overcome the grief like her. It was still there, deep in here, but after facing it was it easier to bear. 

Elrond blinked for a few more seconds before rushing into the room, nearly knocking his father-in-law out of the window, - something which would have earned him a few extra bad points - and embraced his wife sobbing. Thank the Valar, she has returned to him, he was so worried that she would fade, but her she was scolding him, smiling, hugging him back while speaking calming words into his ear. This was all too wonderful to be true! Suddenly he heard a new voice yell in happiness, it looked as if Celeborn had went to get Arwen who was now also hugging her mother in gleeful happiness. Now only needed the twins to return and everything would be as if that nightmare would have never happened. 

Embracing her family felt Celebrian the light of their warmth fill the world of her soul and make the flowers bloom in all of their beauty, fully hiding the remaining dark spots from view, but they were still there in her, as was the memory that would never leave, but Valinor would cease even the last drop of darkness on her soul. 

She would sail, but for now, the broken flower was slowly blooming again.


	3. The White Lady of the Golden Woods

It was already a month ago since Celebrian had sailed away to the Undying Lands to fully heal and to wait for the time her family would join her. It was a painful departure because no one wanted to let her go, but she was not to be moved from her decision though only her father seemed to support it. 

So she left and the numbing grief had returned to her family leading for Celeborn to again call upon the Healer of Souls. Together they decided that Celeborn would take Arwen, who was again sent to them, for a walk in the Golden Woods and Nestaron would take care of Galadriel and later in the evening about Arwen whom looked as if she hadn’t sleep since a long time. 

So while daeradar and granddaughter were away slipped Nestaron into the mind of the White Lady.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

Facing the hall filled with doors he silently walked up to the red door, noting with distaste how the far corners started taking up a greyish colour, nearing black. Shaking his head he pushed the door open and stepped into the white marble palace, fine mist gliding past his feet. Making his way through the silent halls filled with bright light fell his eyes on the figure sitting at the balcony, the White Lady of Lothlórien whose beauty had captivated the hearts of so many creatures along the centuries. On her hand something gleamed, the ring Nenya, the Ring of Adamant being only two of her many names, something akin to a smile appeared on his lips at the sight of it, knowing that she had noticed the ring he carried and from the gleam he caught in the corner of his eyes she had answered.

He watched unmoving as Galadriel turned around, anger shining in her eyes as she glared at him. 

“How dare you approach me Bearer of Darkness” she hissed in a cold voice. “Was it not enough pain that the Necromancer and that damned creature whom raised you had caused this land, now you come and took away my daughter after his beasts have broken her! You are truly a being followed by death and pain.” he didn’t wince at her harsh words because there was no denying and grief often made one say things they might regret later, even thought he knew that she would not regret them. 

“It is true that I have taken away your daughter in healing her soul enough for her to recover and decide if she wished to stay or sail. You know that in Valinor she will be fully better and will be waiting for you all to join her. As for your other accusations, you know the best that _He_ had no part in the making of the orcs and for that damned creature as you are reffering to him, it was prophesized that the Nine would fall. Men had always weak souls against temptation” he answered before taking a deep breath. “As for the last, if my mother would have been sure that if she used her magic then she could save us both would have I been the happiest, but she was not sure that in her fatigue it would work so she concentrated her magic to protect her unborn child. You can’t blame a mother for sacrificing herself for the life of her child.” he finished looking deep into her eyes, holding the gaze of clear blue eyes. 

“True, a mother should be ready to give up everything for their child” she agreed, the cold in her gaze still present as she straigtened to give her dismissal. “Return now to the darkness of Mordor where you belong, I’m sure they are already looking for their Prince” she replied with a sardonic smile, she wished for him to leave. 

“Such a pathetic comeback form you híril-nín, really if someone would hear their fair Lady speak in such a manner." he replied with a smirk. "Even tough you are attacking me with your harsh words and coldness, I gave my word to Lady Celebrían that I would protect her family from fading. Do you think that hiding in your Room of Visions would stop you from wandering the Halls of Mandos if you continue on like this?” 

“No dhínen!” she snapped cowering her ears with her hands and turning away. 

“No, I will not keep quiet, you are acting like a stubborn elfling.” Nestaron snapped back, she was really not helping the case, and they really say that Sindar elves were stubborn? 

“Get out of my mind.” Galadriel hissed, Nenya gleaming on her hand, feeling her distress and sending a wave of water in his direction, but it never hit target as a wall of black and silver light stood in its way. “So this is it, the one whose existence was hidden even from the other ring bearers whom hadn’t looked behind the prophecy of the rings, only me and Mithrandir did it.” she said while looking at the black and silver ring he bore on his left hand before reciting the words about the rings. 

__

“Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,  
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,  
Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,  
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne  
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

__

**

One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,  
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them  
In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.”

**

“So you have figured out that even thought Dwarfs are also mortal creatures the _'doomed to die'_ pherse by the Men meant something other, that they were doomed to fall and become the Ringwraiths.” Nestaron said with a cold grin, it didn’t matter that she knew that or more, she was clinging to the past, unforgiving to those whom fell into the darkness, being in her presence he was developing an inkling why the king of the Wood Elves didn’t like her all too much. 

No matter how beautiful something is, beauty is the perfect mask for these things to hide their flaws form others and her flaw was that part of her heart which could not forgive past mistakes. 

“Yes and also something other, the hidden meaning behind the sentences _“One Ring to find them,”_ the talk about binding them in the darkness and the that it waits in Mordor. First we were puzzled why the One Ring would need to find whom to bring them to Mordor if they already had it and then we realized it on the day my daughter had given birth to my grandchildren, even though the healers were sure it would be only one. The answer had dawned on us like when Anor awakens, twins, the One Ring had a twin about only Sauron had known and no one other.” she said wile pointing one delicate finger at him, Nestaron only snickered while holding up his left hand where his ring gleamed. 

“True, there was a twin ring and of course a pharse missing from the poem right after the line about the rings of men; _"One for the Hidden Queen's hand shining in the dark ligh"_ , my mother had been her bearer and after she passed was it given to me to carry. The twin of the One Ring, the one they only named Dûr Ithil.” he said calmly.

“The Dark Moon, a matching name for it.” she replied with a sneer. 

“Lady Galadriel, this is slowly getting tiresome, I come here to make you stop from hiding from reality. The trees are crying for their White Lady and your people worry for you, if you can’t pull yourself together for them then how do you think your daughter will react when one day her ada finally arrives at the white shores and tells her that you are wandering the Halls of Mandos? Then it will end like this, your door already started to change dark gray which is slowly fading into black and only the death posses black doors. Your daughter had showed incredible strength as she faced her darkest memories and shattered the darkness clutching her heart and stepped into the light, why can’t the woman who had given her life not do the same?” he asked as she turned away from him. 

Suddenly there was the patter of little feet running in their direction and a little elfling run past him and nearly jumped into Galadriel’s lap. She looked down with pained eyes into the ones matching hers, stroke the light pink cheeks gently as the child giggled, resting her blonde head in her lap. Heaving a pained sigh Galadriel finally looked up at the dark haired elf still standing on the same spot where he was since his arrival. 

“Fine, but only because I long to hold my child in my arms again, but for that to happen I need to wait for the return of the One Ring as I have seen it in my vision.” she said in a distant voice as she glanced down at the memory of her daughter. Nestaron nodded, Dûr Ithil was also feeling that her brother was slowly waking, she was seeking him.

“That is all I wished to hear, I bid you a good day híril-nín.” and with that he was already gone, leaving Galadriel with her memory as she gazed out at the sky. 

“The end of the Third Age and that of elves is nearing its end, soon the One Ring will return and the whole future of Middle-Earth will lye in the hands of the smallest. I hope for you Prince of Mordor that you manage to walk your path filled with grief and pain and not succumb to the darkness which had robbed the mind of your uncle and the one protecting you.” with a last glance at the illusion of her sleeping child the room faded, leaving only a door which was slowly regaining its original colour as she passed it. 

She was Galadriel, the White Lady of the Golden Woods and thus she would stay till her role was fulfilled and she could embrace her beloved Celeb Ellen at the shores of the Undying Lands.


	4. The Evenstar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I'm starting to remember why I felt as if using Tarot cards when I did the chapter titles...

Returning from the walk with her daeradar was Arwen pleasantly surprised when she spotted her daernaneth standing at the top of the long stairs leading up to her talan, smiling at her warmly and holding her hands out. She had run up to her and embraced the older elleth in her happiness, her ada in his depression always sent her to her grandparents, but only her daeradar had time for her because Galadriel was always in a trance like state in her room or when not then she ignored everything around her. It had pained her seeing her family breaking apart again so she was happy that she finally reacted to her and apologized that she had caused her more pain. 

It was a wonderful thing to be able to talk to her daernaneth, to have her brush her dark hair before going to bed, but Arwen could not tell her that she dreaded sleep. She dreaded it because since her nana had sailed away had the nightmares which had plagued her returned. 

She was afraid to face them, but fatigue had won against her will to stay up.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

_A crashing sound had woken her from her sleep, Arwen looked around panicked, trying to call for someone, but no sound come form her throat no matter how she tried, then come the loud scream which sounded like her mother followed by cruel laughter and more screams. Arwen run immediately back to her bed and hid under the covers, shaking as heavy steps neared her room, a foul stench filling the air._

_A new crash as he door broke and the young elleth watched with horror filled eyes the large orcs walking inside, their weapons dripping fresh blood on the ground, again she tried to scream, but nothing happened, darkness was enveloping the room as the first creature neared her, she couldn’t move…_

_…its clawed hand was only inches form her when suddenly a pale hand grabbed it, halting the creature in its motion._

“Daro!” _she heard the stranger command and the orc backed obediently to the door where the others stood._ “If only they would be in real life this obedient.” _he said with a dark laugh before kneeling down in front of the frightened elf. He was really pretty in Arwen’s option, mostly his eyes, they reminded her on Itil’s light._

_“Who are you?” she asked, her voice still slightly frightened, this was not how her dreams went, not that she minded._

“I’m a friend of your nana and your daeradar, who had promised them to help your family.” _at this she stared at the stranger with wide eyes, suddenly remembering that when her mother parted from them that she had whispered to her that if she should feel too sad then her daeradar would send their beautiful friend to help her._

_“You are the mellon vain nana was referring to.” Arwen said and smiled at the confirming nod then he took her little hands into his and smiled up at her gently._

“Your nana is a strong woman and as her daughter you are also strong, don’t let the nightmares rule your heart pen neth, this is your mind, your dream, your are the one in control.” 

_“But, I’m so scarred.” she admitted._

“Everyone is scared sometime, but there is nothing to fear then fear itself. Try facing it, I will stand here right beside you.” _with that felt Arwen herself be helped form the bed - she remembered her nana saying often something similar to them about fearing something - and now was she standing in the middle of her room facing the orcs, her nana’s friend’s hands on her shoulders. Swallowing hard and thinking about her beloved nana she looked up at the foul creatures who were the cause that she can't see her for a long time._

_“Get out of my home and don’t ever return!” she yelled in a determined tone she never knew she had, glaring in front of her she noticed that some of them backed back. Feeling bravery run through her body like a smoothing blanked took the young elleth a step forward, towards her fears. “I said, leave my home!” she yelled again with full force, watching as they headed her bidding, the darkness slowly disappearing as it rethreated into the walls._

“You did well pen neth, you are truly your brave mother’s daughter.” _the stranger said to her with a warm smile which made her blush._

_“Thank you, will… will you also help ada and my brothers?” she asked hopefully, she only wanted to have her family back._

“I promised didn’t I?” _she only smiled and hugged him tightly in response._ “Now rest, the nightmares will only return if you let them.” _and with that was he already gone._

_“Hannon chen mellon vain.” Arwen said smiling happily as she noted Anon raising outside of the window as her nana’s cheerful voice called her to help her wake her brothers. Now she would never be scared again to sleep then in her mind was she in control of her fears._


	5. The Lore Master of Rivendell

All his hopes were shattered even before he could enjoy their return. 

He felt such joy and relief when Celebrían had awoken from her coma and started healing, not refusing any part of the treatment, eating obediently, spending time in the gardens with her family, laughing, smiling, it all looked like a wonder, but then it all shattered with just four little words. 

_“I wish to sail.”_

He had tried everything to persuade her differently! By the Valar, he had even begged her on his knees, but she had only smiled sadly down at him, pulled him to his feet and told him that there was no other way for her to heal fully and if he loved her, then he would understand and let her go. Aya, he understood, as a healer he understood perfectly, but as her husband he did not and would not, but he needed to let her go to have a chance to see her again one day. 

After she was gone went his sons back to their path of bloody revenge to rid the whole of Middle-Earth from orcs, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care for anyone, then none of them could understand his pain, his sons lived only for killing and his daughter looked at him with such sadness, he couldn’t bear it so he sent her away to her grandparents. 

If he could think of anything other then the cold loneliness and grief then he might have realised that he was pushing everyone away who cared for him. He was snappish with the servants and even managed to insult his two closest friends and advisors as those tried to make him leave his bed after nearly a month of him hiding in his chambers, refusing to let the sheets be changed because they still carried her scent on them. 

Slowly was everyone getting at their wits end, accepting the blank truth that they might be soon mourning the departure of another of the household.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

Nestaron looked with a raised eyebrow at the slowly greying-blackening door in front of him, arms tightly folded in front of his chest. Shaking his head while biting back a sigh of frustration which tried escaping his lips pushed the Dweller the door open and stepped inside.

As guessed there was no lovely illusion or the place of mind where visions appeared, only darkness and silence. Striding forth the dark mass, it seemed to make his body heavier with each step he took, chilling his body till the core of his bones, making it hard to breath. As if icy fingers of invisible hands would fold themselves around your throat and squeeze it with all their might, drawing you deeper into the gapping abyss of nothingness. 

Thus was the mind of a fading Eldar. 

“How long do you think it will take your soul to fully fade from this world Eledhiren?” he asked calmly into the blackness as he approached the sunken figure of the once proud elven lord, eyes fixed on the still figure. “How do you think fair Luthíen would feel, whose fairness was passed on to one of your kin, how would your parents whom loved you and feared for your safety when you were taken by Maedhros and Maglor? Your twin Elros whom choose the path of men and thus left you had chosen so because he felt that it was his destiny as was it yours to walk the path of elves, he wished for you to never fade. How would Gil-Galad feel about the one he had entrusted his people to being so weak? How would lady Celebrían feel if her waiting at the white shores would be for nothing? How do you think the Evenstar feels about being pushed away?” his voice was accusing he knew, but this was the only way and it seemed to work because soon sword calloused hands were around his slender throat, gray eyes burning with dark rage boring into his own. 

“Bertho!” he growled, but Nestaron didn’t back away for everyone dealt with loss differently, anger, fear, despair and denial, if these were overcome and acceptance reached then a being could heal, but only if they leave the spiral of self-destruction. 

“You know that my words are the truth híren.” he could feel that also Vilya had noticed whom he had at his side and would try getting as much distance between his master and him. 

“I don’t believe you, what right do you have to appear here, for you can’t be a part of my mind!” Elrond yelled, but suddenly felt a strong wind wrap itself around him, pulling his hands away from the pale neck, setting a good ten feet distance between them. Looking slightly bewildered Elrond finally noticed his ring gleaming. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded from the stranger, not even knowing that in the waking world had a panicking maid already called for both Erestor and Glorfindel whom were currently staring gapping and utterly lost at the glowing ring on their Lord’s hand. 

“I have the right as a healer and that of one whom had given their word to your brave wife to get her family out of their foolishness before they destroy themselves." he noted the raised eyebrow he was getting, but it didn't faze him. "There are two ways people deal with loss, either they pull their loved ones closer or they push them away. You are doing the later, do you think Lady Celebrían would have wanted this?" his tone turned accusing again. "That two of her children might get killed by orcs or worse suffer the same fate as her?” Elrond flinched at the words as the sight of his beloved’s abused body flashed up before his eyes. “That your daughter gets plagued by nightmares in which she suffers the same fate as her mother, because no one hears her screams for help?” at this Elrond finally looked up in concern. 

“Arwen has nightmares?” he asked wide eyed, why hadn’t she told him, but then pain flashed into his heart as he remembered foggily that she had tried talking to him about something, but he had only told her to pack her things she wished to take with her when visiting her grandparents. 

“Had, they should be gone by now, she is a brave little elleth.” Nestaron said with a little smile before it disappeared and he took a step forward, as guessed the Ring of Air was pulling his bearer away from him. How different each of the rings acted, but he doesn’t have the time to dwell on it, he could feel Elrond’s light dimising, if there is no change then he won’t last till the next winter comes to the valley. 

“What is happening now?” Elrond asked in confusion as he stared at his ring, not understanding why it pulled him away from the invader. 

“Vilya is only feeling frightened, unlike Nenya whom tried an unsuccessful attack at feeling the frustration of her bearer. I would say Vilya is the more intelligent one of the two, but I can promise that I won’t do any you harm. My name is Nestaron the last existing Dream Dweller since the Kinslayers murdered us for their own wile pleasure. This should help you enough, as a Lore Master you must have already read about us, there should be a few lines written down.” he said with a grin on his lips, he needed to drive reactions from the lord to let him break out of his lethargy without him noticing. 

Saddly were healers themselves the worst type of patients, he didn’t feel ashamed admitting this. 

“A Dream Dweller, one of the Bearers of Iluvatar’s Comparison?” Elrond asked in shock then he was sure that they had all been slain by the Kinslayers back then when he was still nothing, but an elfling. It was one of the grounds why Sindarin tended to be careful when dealing with Noldorins even now because of what he read were all Dwellers from Sindarin descent and said to be the most beautiful if feeling comparison, sorrow, grief or sadness. This was the ground why they got slain, because their murderers wanted to see them at their most beautifullest, using the abused, half-dead or already dead bodies to fulfil their sick desire for them. A wave of disgust hit him at the memories of the things he had read, the cruelty of such an act against another living creature whom only tried to lessen others sufferings not asking for anything in return. Then the disgust ebbed away and in its place stepped a melancholic sadness and pity, the few lores he had read about these healers had by all ended with the same conclusions, they were the only elves in whole Arda whom walked a path in never-ending darkness, their path shed with tears, surrounded by sorrow, pain and grief. 

“I see you have read about us.” Nestaron stated, his tone softer now as a kind smile appeared on his pale lips, the cold silver of his eyes softening like when the clouds pass the moon and give her light free. The path of anger had been overcome and taken over by sadness, the first step to healing, but Elrond had not noticed this, then for the first time could he fully understand what he had read about the slaying of those born of Iluvatar’s tears. Now that he could see with his own eyes the beauty of them which clenched at your heart and made even his great-grandmother’s Luthíen’s fairness seem fable to the sight presented in front of him, he finally understood the greed of those casting their sould into eternal damnation. “I know that the pain of loss is a heavy burden, but this is for what a family stands for, they help each other carry the burden of loss and your Lady isn’t gone forever, her departure was not a ‘ _good bye_ ’ for forever, but merely a ‘ _we will met again_ ’.” 

“But what should I do, even if my daughter accepts me again and forgives my coldness towards her in her time of need, my parents-in-law will not turn towards me and my sons won’t listen to words of reason.” Elrond said, his eyes burning with unshed tears, he would not break down in front of another so much younger then him.

“The Evenstar had never held a grudge against you only delicate love, it had been your father-in-law calling upon a kinsman to help firstly his daughter” at this Elrond’s eyes widened in realization, the day on which Celeborn had ordered the healers to knock him out, the order as to not disturb him as he watches over his daughter, Celebrían waking up while under the watch of her father, it now all made sense to him if he had enlisted a healer of souls “and you also, your mother-in-law was stubborn about it, but the wish to see her daughter again when her role is fulfilled on Middle-Earth was stronger then her grief. As for your sons, I will do my best the mend their hurt.” Nestaron said, but in his words hid away the dark fact about the twins future should he fail to blow out the flames of hatred scorching their souls. 

“Then…then I lay my family's fate into your hands.” said Elrond finally as he suddenly felt long arms wrap around him in a gentle hug. 

“You shouldn’t hold your tears in híren, our tears are not thought to make us look weak, but to let go of which weights on our soul, just like the laugher is making it soar. If you still wish to hide them, then weep freely here while I hold you before you return to the waking world, you shouldn’t make your loved ones be chained longer by pain for you.” Elrond heard the gentle words and allowed his tears to finally fall while clinging to the warm embrace of the other, not even noticing how the darkness started to get a little bit lighter around them as his soul finally ceased to follow the call of Mandos and turned away from the dark path.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

Gray eyes opened slowly, but closed immediately as the bright light of the sun hit them, his whole body hurt, not at all pleased to be forced to lay only in one spot. As his eyes got a bit more adjusted to the light made Elrond a failing attempt to sit up, but luckily got a sudden help. Turning to his side was he faced by the worried gaze of his Chief Counsellor and friend.

“Erestor, what are you doing in my chambers?” Elrond asked in confusion, but what shocked him more was the fact that he nearly didn’t recogrinaize his own voice because of how raspy it sounded. 

“Take is easy mellon-nín, we were called in here because Vilya started suddenly glowing in a bright light." Elrond nodded in understanding, so it really wasn’t a dream. “Try not to strain your voice, I will get you some water.” Erestor said and was already about to go to the door when it suddenly bust open revealing Elrond’s Seneschal and other friend Lord Glorfindel rushing inside in panic, a bucked held in his hands. Suddenly Erestor’s dark eyes widened as he jumped back to the bed, hand held out in front of him. “Glorfindel wait! He is a…” but it was already too late and in mere seconds were both Lord and Counsellor dripping wet from the content of the bucket “…wake…” he finished with an annoyed look at the now sheepishly grinning Balrog Slayer. 

“Erestor, I think I have had enough water” was Elrond’s only reply as he looked at the dark haired elf to his right who nodded, but deep inside felt relieved joy that the Lord of Imladris had finally returned to them.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

Meanwhile in a dark room a pair of moon light eyes opened as a pale hand gently touched the bruises on the pale throat. These would fade in the matter of a day, he had worse when dealing with other patients. Climbing out of the warm bed made the slender figure its way to the circular balcony and let his gaze wander over the bare fortress and land filled with only darkness and decay. Even if others found this land ugly and something to be dreaded, he felt at home here, he had been born and raised here in the heart of darkness.

He was as the White Lady had called him the Prince of Mordor and he would never deny it. 

People often tended to forget that the darkness isn’t always evil and the light not always good, it only depended on how you looked at the things around you. The sound of cups and plates on a tray hit his ears as he turned around, breaking his trail of thoughts, he made it just in time for dinner in the company of his guardian since his uncle was forth for some time. 

On his hand Dûr Ithil gleamed, singing longingly for her twin to join her soon.


	6. The Elven Knight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I think the last two chapters were the most interesting ones to write for me... and needed in addition the most planning...

It was the first day of winter when the twins had finally returned after four long months from their bloody hunt for Morgoth’s foul creations. Neither of them spoke to anyone they had come to pass, the brothers only made their way in the direction of their shared chambers to freshen up and rest. They planned to continue the long journey in a week, but even that seemed to be a long time to rest for them. Both Elrond and Arwen had watched on sadly, hoping that while back home can they also start their slow path of healing, with a little help. 

It was already late in the night and both Sons of Elrond were still spending their time outside on the snow cowered practice fields, it was frustrating, but Elrond had an idea he got from his father-in-law. Filling two goblets with sweet wine and a good mix of drugs, the mix would knock even an oliphaunt out-cold for several hours. After Arwen delivered it to them she gave the signal to Glorfindel, Erestor and her father to help her getting them inside. The two male elves didn’t even question the ground for this tactic, the two were in desperate need of rest, but at least they didn’t need to worry for father and daughter anymore. 

Nestaron had watched the whole scene from atop of a tick branch, hidden from view, but while no one could see him he could see the others well, also noting the other hiding figure whose blue eyes stared sadly in the direction of the younger twin. Looks like he got now more material to work with to save his soul, then while in the case of the other members of the family was it about taking their hand and leading them on the path of healing was it in the case of the gwanűn all about saving their souls. Standing up he jumped to the ground, long cloak like black wings around him as he landed gracefully on the ground, after thanking the tree for being his hiding spot made the Dream Dweller his way to the other side of the large garden where the balcony to the room of his patients stood. He knew that this would be the hardest, the anger they have felt for what was done to their mother had transformed itself into pure hatred, scorching every other feeling up inside their souls, twisting, soiling and blackening it, driving away every light from them, forcefully making them cast away everyone till no one is left, then the hate will turn against them and destroy the both of them! He knew that hate was the most disgusting of all emotions a living creature could feel, it was dangerous to feel it because of its strength, it was this grotesque feeling which had twisted the souls of the orcs beyond repair and was now on its way to make these two peredhel into the same beings which they were so intent in destroying! His fists clenched together painfully as a wave of disgust washed over him at the dark memories he was forced to see when he had once attempted healing what Morgoth’s cruelty had created. 

The orcs were not creatures to be hated, but to be pitied for their souls just like that of the Kinslayers would never find peace.

♈ ♉ ♊ ♋ ♌ ♍ ♎ ♏ ♐ ♑ ♒ ♓

Closing the almost dark gray door silently made Nestaron his way through the battle field, stepping and manoeuvring over piles of mutilated orc corpses, puddles of black blood and slippery guts, head shaking at what the hatred had done to the soul of this young eldar. He whom was born only a few months before the Last Alliance of Elves and Men had fought their final battle in Mordor had already seen bloodshed before even knowing what it was, while tending to the mind of survivors, sometimes without they knowledge. He had a better inkling to the Age on which's sunset he had been born then most of the ones having lived in it and from what he learnt was one thing clear, he would never want to hate others. Stepping carefully over another mutilated body fell his eyes on something pale under one of the piles of the large bodies.

It was starting, slowly inside his mind would this elven knight not only murder beasts in blind rage, but also loved ones, spiralling even deeper into the black abyss of darkness till he would loose his own life. Already his light was dimming, blackening, the blood of men inherited form his father’s side only quickening the process, then no matter how people tried denying it, negative emotions which drive one to hurt the ones they love was a second nature of men. It was a dark beast hiding deep within their souls, waiting for the right time to strike. His face stayed blank when the silence of death was broken by the sound of angry growls and the disgusting sucking sound when a blade is being pulled out of raw flesh. 

“Found you.” he said with a humourless grin making his way to the knight whom didn’t even look up as he bashed his sword into the already mutilated dead body in front of him, blood, grime and guts all over him. 

Elrohir felt a dark pleasure as he watched his blade hit the defenceless corpse, lips curling into a feral grin as the cold metal sung with his burning blood for more and more death. Death to those bastards taking away his naneth, they should hurt and rot for what they did! No one could understand him, this was the only cause for them to live and no one should dare to stand between him and his goal or they will feel his wrath! The sight of these creatures dead, mutilated, bleeding, their warm gore spilling out of them, this sight was truly beautiful. Holding his blood stained blade over his head to strike again was the cold metal halted by that of another gleaming silver blade, runes engraved into the long blade. Turning his gray eyes to his side in confused surprise they fell on silver ones boring into his own. 

“Who are you and how dare you stopping me.” he hissed, voice filled with venom, eyes nearly black from rage and dark lust which always grips the body in mad bloodbaths. Nestaron held back a flinch, he had seen in some memories this and they often lead to similar things happening which was done to his own kind, there was a ground why he took his blade with him for this case. 

“I’m someone who gave his word to try haling your souls.” he said, hands firmly holding the other's blade down with his own. 

“Our souls don’t need healing!” Elrohir snapped in anger and annoyance, who was this elf to dare interrupting him in his revenge!? One eyebrow rose in imitation of his father as the other sighed, Elrohir was not sure, but it was as if the stranger’s features got fairer then before, his eyes gleaming like Ithil in the darkest night. 

“It is true, your and your brother’s souls don’t need to be healed, they need to be saved.” he replied in a sad tone and Elrohir felt his blood boil. What was this dumb joke about needing to be saved, he and Elladan were just fine, no matter how large the number of the enemy they always won the battle!

“We don’t need to be saved.” Elrohir finally replied laughing, a cold laugh witout emotions. 

“And this is where you are mistaken, if you don’t forget your hatred then soon both you and your twin will become the same as the creatures you want so much to destroy.” this did it, Elrohir would not let anyone compare him to those damned creatures whom had raped his mother! 

“Sedho! Don’t you dare compare us with those pest!” he roared in anger, blade swishing to cut through fair skin, but his blade was deflected. 

Nestaron took blow after blow with his sword, always on the defensive, he was not in danger for as long as he was staying calm. If blind rage clouds your mind you are more prone to exhaust yourself with useless moves or make mistakes which your opponent can use to their advantage. His only problem was that he needed to will his ring to stay calm and not attack as it was her purpose, to protect her bearer from those wishing to do him harm. 

The predictions come true after som long minutes and Elrohir started tiring, slipping on a little mass of brain on the hard ground, using his chance Nestaron hit the sword from his hand and with the blunt part knocked the elven knight out. Not the usual thing he does with people he threats, but some make it necceseary to be put into a time-out. He knew that if the other would have managed to regain a cool head then he could have managed to win against the Dweller, this was another back draw of hatred. It was truly a wonder that the two of them managed to be still alive if they went into all of their fights like this, but it could have helped that it was also hatred driving the orcs in their battles. 

Meaning the results had been all either a storke of luck or the Valar being mercyfull. 

Sighing again he bent down to pick up the out-cold body and to bring him to a deeper place, the part of his soul still trying to keep the mind together. 

Elrohir woke up with a painful headache almost twenty minutes after, groaning as he sat up. After clearing away the bluriness his dark eyes widened as he looked around in confusion in the dark, slowly decaying forest and at the bloody battlefield not far away by its outskirts. 

“I see that you are awake now.” at the sound of the melodious voice turned the elven knight to the other elf leaning against one of the few still living trees. “I hope that now you will listen to me Rohir.” he said and Elrohir had again the feeling as if he would have become more fairer looking as he looked at him with that melancholic gaze. 

“Why should I listen to you, those damned orcs had…” he was stopped in his words by a raised hand, much like what his paretns and teachers did when they wanted to lecture him and Dan by which the two of them tried to protest. 

“I know the dark fate which had befallen Lady Celebrían, it was her whom wished from me to help you all as well as your dearadar, your father and sister are already on their way to heal till the day they can reunite with her in Valinor.” Nestaron said to the wide eyed elf, but did not move from his spot against the three for cautious reasons. “Your naneth didn’t want to cause pain with her sailing, but she also wished to clean the remaining blackness form her soul to be able to become again the person she had always been. She left to see you again when the dawn of a new age starts.” 

“She should have stayed, she could have then seen how much work we invest in making everyone’s lives happy in freeing Middle-Earth from the orcs.” Elrohir said, eyes on the ground, his tone bitter and betrayed. 

“Really?” Nestaron asked him with a raised eyebrow. “You truly believe that being away for long months, ignoring everyone and making them worry for your safety would truly make them happy? She would be horrified anstead of happy. In your blind hunt did you never notice all those whom care about you? Those whom you are hurting?” he asked at which Elrohir snorted. 

“They will be glad once we finished our task.” was his only reply which made Nestaron bite his lips, this one was rather stuborn. 

“Or your task will finish you, look around yourself Son of Elrond, this place is your own soul! Do you see the bloodied battle field? tThere are not only orcs laying there slain by your sword, but also kin, this forest is the part of you which tries to keep your mind together, but it is dying! The darkness is twisting your soul till only death and decay remain, a cold battle field filled with the mutilated bodies of both foes and friends!” silver eyes looked hard at the figure kneeling on all fours on the ground. 

“If this is the prize to rid Arda from the orcs, then I will gladly accept the sacrifice.” at his words the tree under which Nestaron stood let a couple of its leaves fall to the ground. Looking up at the tree flicked the Dweller his hand, hoping that this would work, time was running out. 

_“Elrohir?”_ at the soft sound turned the elven knight sharply to the side, his eyes falling on a familiar blonde minstrel standing beside one of the dead trees. 

“Lindir?” he asked in confusion, he had since long not seen the bard in his fantasies and dreams, he had been too preoccupied with dark thoughts of guilt and anger. He watched as the slender figure run up to him, wrapping his arms around his body. 

_“Why did you leave me behind rohir nín?”_ the musician asked in a sad tone, head buried into the other’s chest.

“Man carel le?” Elrohir asked as he glared up at the strange elf, but the other noted the pain filling those dark eyes, softening their hardness caused by rage. “Why are you playing this cruelty? If you think that will I let you deter me from my way with fake illusions you are sorely mistaken.” he growled, but his hands were gripping the illusion closer against him. 

“I’m not playing a cruel joke my young lord, he had been sneaking behind you and your brother each time you had returned, watching in pain as you drifted even more away from everyone. He was today also there, hiding behind a tree watching you with sorrow and longing, if you continue in your madness then it is inventible that this young minstrel will follow you into the Halls of Mandos should you not return home by the next time you ride out.” Nestaron finished and it was the truth, when he come to heal Lady Celebrían he had seen the blonde singer by the gates, unmoving, his eyes staring with worry and longing into the distance, searching for a familiar form. The deep love could be clearly seen and felt, as could the fear of rejection. 

“Don’t lie, Lindir would never be interested in me.” Elrohir snapped bitterly, longing making its way into both his eyes and voice. 

“I think he is fearing the same," he was pleased when the younger elf's head snapped up, his eyed filling with confusion "you are the son of his Lord plus a knight and thus a higher rank then him a mEre minstrel, beside that, how often did you make him feel that he was more then only a friend? For those of lower rank is the fear always there that they might get rejected because of it or cause their beloved to fall from good grace by the ones with similar rank. There is also the fact of your inheritance and the possibility that similar to your uncle you might choose the Gift of Men and thus become mortal and not sail to the Undying Lands.” Nestaron explained to the wide eyed peredhel. 

“That idiot!” Elrohir whispered as he looked down on the memory in his arms. “Why do you not see how I feel?” he asked, Nestaron only smiled as his eyes spotted a little green patcj in the dried out grass. 

“You know, he would know about your feelings if you would just tell him?” he asked with a kind smile. “Forget your hatred, your mother is happy and is waiting for you patiently and something tells me that she would be pleasantly surprised if she would see her youngest son greet her with a little family of his own.” his smile turned into a smirk when Elrohir’s cheeks coloured and the implication. 

“I… I might think about it.” he said in an embarssed voice, but the Dweller knew the answer already as he saw the forest slowly look a bit healthier then a few minutes ago. Soon it would overtake the battle field, burry the dead under soft mounds of emerald grass and large trees. 

“That is all I’m asking for.” he said while slowly departing, but before that he turned one last time around with a mischievous smile on his lips. “You might also want to wake up now for a few minutes, I don’t think that you will mind it.” he said before disappearing.

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Nestaron had sneaked out of the bedchamber after letting Elrohir drink the antidote to the sleeping draught he had got from his father. Usually he would not do something like this, but at the moment was it more helpful for the patient to not be knocked out.

Just as the door fell shut the knight’s eyes opened, sitting up groggily and with a pounding head waited Elrohir for his eyes to adjust to the dark. Luckily had elves a good night vision which come back in the past often in handy when he and his brother sneaked out to prepare their pranks. Elrohir smiled at the memory, he missed those good times, this was when he noted the weight on his legs. Looking down expecting to see either his sister or father his eyes widened in surprise as he spotted a blond head resting there. A blush raised itself on his cheeks as he fully realized just who was at his side, heart pounding loudly he gently brushed a strain of blonde hair from the fair face, noting how soft both skin and hair felt. The figure stirred, but didn’t wake up, only a little smile appeared on pink lips, leaning into the hand's touch. 

“Good night Lindir, melin chen.” he whispered.

Maybe, if his feelings were truly returned he could pressure Elladan to stay a little bit longer home unlike the other times. Looking once more down at the sleeping figure laid Elrohir back down in his bed to sleep, to dream of beautiful forests and a lovely singer walking at his side as they walked up to his mother who looked at the pair with warm eyes. 

Meanwhile inside the elven knight’s soul was the forest slowly awakening to new life, moving to regain its old territory.


	7. The Fading Star

Opening the door to the second bedchamber slipped Nestaron quietly inside the dark room and made his way up to the sleeping figure on the bed. He was pale and slightly shaking, just what he needed, his mind was reacting worse to the negative feelings then by the younger brother! This was not surprising, no matter what he did, he was not a warrior, but a healer and being faced with such grief so directly had created a deep scar in him which often happened to healers working on a war front. Gently whipping away the sweet from the furrowed brows sat the Dweller down on the side of the unevenly breathing figure and placed one cool hand on his forehead closing his eyes to get inside his mind, already knowing what he would find in there. 

He had no time to lose...

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_Water droplets fell from the pointed stone pillars to the gray ground, the air was tick with the smell of orcs, decey, mush and death. On some places laid skulls showing the fate of some of those dragged into this cave of horrors. The carved walls led down into the deep blackness which was only sparsely lighted by torches, but even if they did give a little light, the whole underground place was filled with chilling cold. Deep in the heart of the underground hiding place jeered orcs in disgusting delight while standing on one side of the stone chamber while further front a beaten body laid on cold stone, her body broken, eyes staring emptily to the side, not moving._

_A dark haired figure stood in front of her, grey eyes starring with pained horror down at the broken body of the woman whom had hugged him gently and whispered calming words into his ear when outside a storm raged. The person telling him and his younger siblings good night stories before kissing them softly on the forehead and bidding them good night. A shaking hand went out to touch her as the abused body staid unmoving, almost as if dead, not noticing the dark creatures moving in his direction, their ugly, scarred faces twisted into disgusting grins, but then halted as suddenly a hand covered the dark haired elf's eyes, another wrapping itself around his chest pulling him against someone as that person rushed forth._

“Daro!” _he heard the melodious voice say urgently, then there was a distant shattering sound, like the sound of glass breaking, as both sunk to their knees, the sweet smell of night flowers filling his senses._ “Is it really your wish to let yourself be broken like this?” _the stranger asked, his hand still covering the other's eyes so it was impossible for him to see the other._

Nestaron still felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest, if he would have only been one second later, then everything would have been to late. He couldn’t believe that in this short amount of time the case reached this critical point, others needed longer to reach this level of guilt filled hatred that they wish that the thing breaking the beloved person would have happened to them anstead of that person! Unconsciously he pulled Elladan closer against him, he had once seen the result of such feelings, he was called too late to the younger sister to a rape victim, the younger girl had blamed herself because she asked her sister to go looking for mushrooms in her place because she wanted to go over to a friend. In her pain had she searched for the ones hurting her sister, a band of men, she recieved the same fate as her sister, but managed to injure three of them with a dagger she had with her, one of them deadly, she had been only twelve! At least was he now in time before it could have happened, then it first happens inside the mind and later in real life when the opportunity is given which certainly would the next time they ride out. 

He had also shattered the dream and they both were now surrounded by the lonely darkness created by the grief of loss. 

“Why did you stop me?” Elladan asked, his voice not filled with venom as by his twin, but with desperation and pain. He didn’t understand why he was stopped from letting something happen which he deserved to be done to him! 

“Because this is not a path you should walk.” Nestaron replied leaning closer, he could feel the other's guilt and immense grief singing to him. This was another fault of the ones born from Iluvatar’s tears which made them easy targets, the pain of every living being called to them, they could feel it and thus try helping no matter the danger. Sometimes felt he angry for this burden, but accepted it, this was what they were. 

The ones who in their last seconds of existence didn’t cry for themselves, but for the lost souls of the ones whom were raising their blade to slay them. 

“Aye, it is!” Elladan snapped, his body shaking as he tried to hold back his tears. “This is exactly what I deserve and nothing else! It should have happened to me and not to her! She had always called me her gentle son, her Star, but I’m neither!” he yelled in bitter despair and Nestaron shuddered by the rawness of it, he needed to think fast of a way to calm the cold emitting from the body he was holding. He needed to think fast because out of the corner of his eyes he could see little parts of the cave rebuilding themselves. 

“You know that this is not true, no one deserves that from happening to them.” he whispered gently leaning closer and resting his head on the other's right shoulder, some of his long ebony hair slipping forth and mixing with Elladan’s. 

Hair like the starless night sky on fine ebony. 

Elladan was aware of the pressure on his shoulder, of the feeling of something silky tickling his cheek, the warm breath ghosting over his skin, but he didn’t care. Didn’t this person, fidget of his mind or not, not understand that he deserved the pain? It was all his fault that it had happened! He hadn’t told anyone in fear that they would shun him, his mother was more important then him anyway. He didn’t deserve any kindness for giving her to the orcs to have their cruel way with her, it should have happened to him, then all would still be well, no one of his family would be sad if it was him sailing away. 

She would be still here... 

“It was all my fault…” he whispered and Nestaron felt the wetness of tears against his hand. “It is all my fault that this has happened to her, she…she had asked me to accompany her to our grandparents, but… but I told her that I… I didn’t wish to go. If… if I would have been with her I could have made sure that she manages to escape. Everything would have been fine, everyone would have been happy. I… I’m useless, it took us too long to find her and… and then I wasn’t even able to heal her wounds only the new ones… I... I had frozen down.” he said sobbing, finally confessing the pain he had held inside for so long. 

Suddenly the hand withdrew and he was turned around to look into the fair face of a creature which nearly took his breath away. The stranger only smiled at him with a sad understanding as a long fingered hand gently whipped away the tears still streaming down his cheeks. 

“Then the pain of your family would have been doubled, it is only the guilt making you think that you are useless, your mother was proud at both of her beloved sons coming to her rescue and taking her back home.” he said with a faint smile, stopping Elladan as he tried protesting. “She had not known back then that it was you whom had saved her, her mind had shut itself down to protect her, she only found out as I showed her the memories and she wished to view them from the beginning till the end. She was proud of you, the both of you, so don’t doubt yourself she would feel sad if she saw that you are blaming yourself for her fate.” 

“But if I…” the arms were again around him, pulling him into a gentle embrace, but there was something other, a faint melody, slightly melancholic, but still calming.

Closing his eyes could Elladan see the ruins of an old castle, above him a starless night sky only lighted by Ithil’s silver light which played on the lake in the middle of ruins, the smell of blooming roses of different colours filled the air even thought he could see none, he watched a few of the soft petals from the invisible flowers falling gently on the water mirror. The melody wrapped itself around him like a type of soft blanket, smoothing his worries and fears. 

“You are mistaken from your grief, can’t you see that your family loves you and is worried that each time you ride out you might not return? Your mother is a brave woman with a strong will, don’t shame her in losing against the darkness in your heart which was created by your hatred and guilt.” Nestaron said as he allowed his music to continue flowing into the other elf. Usually he never allowed anyone to hear his music only much younger patients, children and babes - for he was not feeling curious to find the his mate whose melody would complet his -, but the other was not acting any better then a scared child so he used it. 

“I… I can’t, I can’t let Roh go alone, in one week we will ride out again. I can’t and will not let my twin go alone!” Elladan said stubbornly, but looked up curiously as he heard a soft chuckle from above. 

“It might be that the elven knight will try approaching you tomorrow wishing to stay a bit longer at home.” he said mysteriously and looked around. “Try stepping out of your grief, talk to your family about the guilt you feel, you will see that they each will tell you on their own way that you have been thinking like an idiot. Everything will be alright if you give things a chance.” he said gently before standing up and heading for the door which had appeared in the middle of his speach. “I will be monitoring your and your brother’s progress for a while till I see you fit to be left of the hook.” 

“You just sounded like adar.” Elladan said with a groan at which Nestaron laughed softly. 

“We healers tend to think in some things or another alike, namárië, don’t let the light of your star fade.” and with that was he gone, leaving a furiously blushing Elladan behind.

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On the next day was Arwen gazing happily out of the large window of her home while behind her were her ada and Elrohir ranting to a blushing and covering Elladan about how he could even think such an absurdity that they would be happy if he got hurt anstead of his mother! She had already hit him on the back of his head to show what she thought about his stupidity, but after this would everything be well again. The young elleth knew that it would never be fully the same till they sail themselves to Valinor, but it still could be good as long as they were are all together. Arwen had decided to write to her daeradar to tell him if he sees her nana’s mellon vain again then he should give him a hug in her place.

She couldn’t have known that said friend was currently sitting atop of one of the older trees watching the scene inside the Last Homely House, a little smile on his lips. 

“They are all on the path of healing now, and something tells me that they will need to heal for what will come.” Nestaron said as he gazed at his left hand where his mother's inheritance to him gleamed, calling to her twin, feeling him somewhere out there, slumbering, but he would soon wake and if the One Ring awakens then this age will come soon to a close as would the time of elves. “I think uncle will soon be back, don’t you think so, Dûr Ithil?” he asked with a chuckle, knowing well if that time comes will he be made to choose neither the side of good or evil, only helping one or the other in occasions of dire need in the case of healing or giving leads, but nothing more.

Well, this was fine with him, the orcs attacked everything with elven heritage no matter who they were and he hated only hurting them more then they already were. This was one of the grounds why he decided to keep one eye on the gwanűn for a little bit more. If a soul has been burned by hate and got so close to twist itself then needed cautious steps to be taken to prevent a relapse and it was a healers duty to make sure that their patients manage to heal and as the last representative of his kin of soul healers he would just do that. 

A Dream Dweller’s path leads them through eternal darkness filled with grief and pain, but they don’t step back because they have accepted the task given to them at the moment of their birth. 

Owari


End file.
